


Piece by Piece

by Jael_Lyn



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:39:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1876836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jael_Lyn/pseuds/Jael_Lyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The past intrudes on the present.  Written to fulfill a  request for a story that showed a dark side of Blair but stayed in character.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piece by Piece

Jim was already in the kitchen before he realized that the lights were still off. He retraced his steps. It was one thing to use your Sentinel senses to navigate, and another to leave your partner in the dark. After all, Sandburg was right behind him, and he was bringing the food.

Mildly pleased with himself, Jim stretched out his sense of smell, hoping for a whiff of the Chinese food he knew was on the way. Sandburg would be pleased that he was using his senses with so little conscious thought. It was a far cry from when it required all his concentration just to get through the day, and his only reward had been a raging headache. It was a tribute to his partner's inventive coaching that every random sound or smell didn't send him into sensory overload. 

On that note, Jim's mood darkened momentarily. Both men agreed that they were at peace with their lives and past decisions, but he would always regret that Blair Jacob Sandburg was not enjoying the accolades his Sentinel research should have garnered. James Ellison was living proof of his expertise. At Blair's insistence they didn't dwell on it. Jim once again promised himself that someday, somehow, he would set the record straight in a manner that honored his partner's sacrifice without undoing it.

His nose wrinkled as he caught the first sniff of dinner. Szechwan - they were living dangerously. This had become a game between the two of them. Joining the police force hadn't dimmed Blair's flair for experimentation. Sandburg would push the envelope with his dinner selections, gradually stretching Jim's sensitive taste buds into new territory. Without this approach, Jim would have been sentenced to a bland diet pretty much for life. Jim had the door open before Blair made the landing.

"Hey, Chief."

"Take a box, Jim, before I dump them all." Blair was jockeying the takeout, a stack of case folders, and apparently, their dry cleaning. "Why can't that stupid elevator ever work?"

"Because we all need these little challenges in our lives, Sandburg," Jim remarked cheerfully, coming to the rescue. "You didn't need to get the cleaning on top of dinner."

"I know, but I was close." Blair dumped the file folders on the couch. "So, can you guess what we're having?"

Jim tucked the tower of takeout boxes under his chin, gracefully balancing the stack on his way to the kitchen. "I smell peppers and garlic, but that's easy." Jim closed his eyes, sampling the air. "Hot and sour soup for sure. Something with...fish? Rice."

"Okay, pretty good." Blair was bustling around the kitchen. "You missed the surprise."

"Will I like it?" Jim asked suspiciously. "What is it?"

Blair was chuckling as he dug out serving bowls and plates. "Of course you'll like it, but you'll like it more if I don't prejudice you."

"Sandburg..."

"Fine. It's octopus."

"Is not. You fed me that before, and I know that smell. I made a point of memorizing that one."

Now Blair was really laughing. "Don't be a kill-joy. It's ma-po tofu. I'll get this stuff ready. What's in the mail?"

Properly chastised, Jim sorted letters. "Two bills, a letter from Naomi, a postcard from Steven...another bill...a mystery letter for you, two credit card offers."

Blair was sampling as he served. "Credit cards. What a waste. I'll read the one from Naomi during dinner. I'm busy right now. Read me the mystery." He selected on of the takeout boxes and popped it into the microwave. "You are going to like this, Jim. I guarantee it."

Jim opened the letter. He wasn't paying a lot of attention to what he was reading, since the food was a lot more interesting. "Dear Mr. Sandburg. Oooh, how formal," he teased with a smirk. "Something about a follow-up study, asking for your cooperation. There's a reply card. Blah, blah, blah...part of a documentary." Jim frowned, his voice laced with concern. "They want to tape an interview for broadcast." Now that sent off alarm bells. Blair's head snapped up. Neither of them had real positive experiences with broadcast journalism. 

"Give it a decent burial with the credit cards. Food's ready."

"You sure? Might be fun."

Blair answered with a brilliant smile. "I don't even have to look. This is one study that can get by without me." 

"Sandburg..." Jim started doubtfully. Blair cut him off.

"Jim, pay attention. I'm partnered with the infamous James Ellison, Cop of the Year, in Cascade, Washington, which we all know is the bad-guy center of the universe. I'm having all the fun I can handle, thank you very much. Give it the heave ho."

Jim dropped the envelope into the trash with a flourish, reminding himself to send the twinge of guilt along with it. If Sandburg was happy outside of academia, the least he could do was not second-guess him. "Okay, Darwin. Time for po-poo-foo or whatever it is."

The dinner was a success. The letter was forgotten.

&&&&

Jim ignored the first knock. He was sprawled across the couch, eyes closed, with Sports Center on the tube. Blair's regular breathing told him that his partner had already dozed off on the neighboring chair. They'd been on duty since yesterday morning, through a successful stakeout and an arrest. All he wanted to do now was sleep. Maybe they'd go away.

Another knock. Blair groaned softly, but he wasn't awake. He definitely wasn't getting up to answer the door. Jim could hear feet shuffling in the hallway, followed by a more persistent banging at his door. Jim cursed softly and stumbled across the room. He'd be a happy man if he could get rid of them quickly. His visitor was knocking again, and Jim jerked the door open, making no effort to hide his irritation.

"Get a grip, whoever you are." That's as far as he got. The view at his doorway left him stunned silence.

There were three of them. One of the men and a young woman were decked out in neat navy blue blazers. The second man was dressed more casually. A camera was perched on his shoulder. Despite the look of shock on Jim's face, the woman didn't miss a beat. She extended her hand and invited herself right on in, easing between Jim and the doorframe. 

"Hi there. I'm Tara White. We're here to speak to Blair Sandburg and tape his interview. And you are?"

"Ellison. Jim Ellison." His shock wore off and the irritation returned. He was tired, but not so tired that he'd ignore this. What were these people thinking, waltzing into his apartment like they belonged there? Behind him, Blair was stirring at the sound of his own name. "What are you...doing? Get back out there."

"Jim?" Blair's drowsy question distracted his attention from the invaders.

"This must be Mr. Sandburg." White motioned to the cameraman, and a red glow told Jim that the camera had flicked on. "We can do the interview right here. Great setting." She turned slowly, eyeing the loft with approval.

Blair struggled to sit up, trying to shake off the veil of sleep. "Interview? What interview? What's going on here - I don't know what you're talking about, and you'd better start making sense real quick." He cast a worried glance at this partner. Judging from past experience, Jim would be moving from irritated to angry pretty quickly.

"I'm Tara White and I'm with the Thompson Agency. We're doing the filming for the study." Blair stared at her blankly. "You were contacted," she continued impatiently. "The ten year follow-up." Blair looked at Jim. He clearly had no idea what they were talking about, and Jim was just as clueless. This might be funny if they weren't asleep on their feet.

Jim started to interrupt. "There must be some mistake. I'd like to see some ID, please, and we'd both like you to step outside." He hesitated, conscious of the tape that was already running. "And turn that damn camera off."

Tara White ignored the angry detective looming over her. She focused on Blair and switched from patronizing to exasperated in a flash. "There was a reply card with the introductory materials, Mr. Sandburg. It's the study for New Life Center."

The last comment finally clicked. Reply card. Chinese. The discarded letter. Jim watched as the color drained from Blair's sleep-flushed face. 

"I...you..." Blair sputtered. Jim sympathized as he watched his partner's brain try to catch up with his tongue. With an agonized look at Jim, the normally articulate man gave up. He bolted out the front door, shoving past White and her companions. Jim tried to catch him, but couldn't get past the cameraman. He could hear his partner's footsteps echo as Blair flew down the stairs.

Jim was furious. "That's it! I don't know who you think you are, barging in here, but you're out of here."

White threw her hands in the air. "There's no reason to get hostile, Mr. Ellison. New Life is a reputable agency, and this should be a meaningful study."

"Sell it to someone else," Jim snapped. "My partner doesn't want to talk to you."

"Well, this is ridiculous."

Jim whirled toward the other man in the blue blazer. All he needed was another opinion from the peanut gallery. The man shrugged. "Sandburg should be grateful for the treatment he got from New Life instead of acting like he's never heard of it before."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"His drug treatment, of course. Like I said, he should be grateful..."

Jim didn't know which bug to squash first. He wanted to rip this guy's smug face off as an initial choice. "I'm going to say this one more time," he snarled. "He doesn't want to do any interviews. I threw that damn card away weeks ago at his request. You take him off your list or whatever brought you here. NOW GET OUT!" They finally got the hint. Jim slammed the door on the retreating figures.

He dashed to the balcony, hoping to get a hint of where his partner had gone.

&&&&

Jim stared at the bay as streaks of pink and orange danced across the water. This was his favorite time of day, and this particular view was one of the things he loved about the loft. He wasn't enjoying it at the moment. He was way too worried about Sandburg.

Blair hadn't returned. Jim had made a circuit around the area on foot since Blair had dashed out without keys. When that was unsuccessful, and there was no sign of Blair after a few hours, he'd made the rounds of every place he could think of where the younger man might have gone. He'd run out of ideas and returned to the loft. He could only hope that his partner would decide to do the same, and soon. It really didn't make any sense. Blair didn't do drugs. Still, the horrified look in Blair's eyes had hinted at something different. It had to be some sort of mix-up.

The first stars were out when he finally heard the door open. Jim forced himself not to dash forward and overwhelm Blair with questions. It killed him, but common sense told him that Sandburg needed to take this on his own terms, and at his own speed.

"Sorry," Blair murmured. He looked beyond exhausted. "I know you must have been worried." 

"Chief, sit down before you fall down. I'll bring you some tea. I have the water hot." By the time he headed into the living room with the steaming mug, Blair was huddled on the couch. He wouldn't meet Jim's eyes. Jim held the mug out until Blair grasped it. 

"Can I sit?"

"It's your place, Jim. You don't need my permission. Thanks for the tea." The voice was flat, without inflection. 

Jim perched on the arm of the couch. He waited in silence and couldn't restrain himself any longer. "I think we started here earlier today. Want to tell me what's going on?"

"No, but I'm going to." Blair laced his fingers around the pottery. 

"Sandburg..."

"Just listen, Jim. Let me get the whole thing out before you say anything."

"So it's true? You were in drug treatment?" The words spilled out of Jim's mouth before he could catch them.

Blair glared at him. "For someone who was in the military, you really don't take direction well."

"I stand corrected. I'll shut up. Talk"

"First and foremost, I don't do drugs. If you're thinking I lied to you about that, I'll never forgive myself. That said, I was in treatment." He finally looked Jim in the eye. "I know, that sounds like a direct contradiction. It was brief and it was stupid. I'll tell you the whole thing, beginning to end, if you want to hear it."

"Okay. I'm listening." Jim clenched his fist and forced down his next outburst. Of course he wanted to hear it.

"My first year at Rainier, I pretty much sailed through the academic work the first semester, but socially, it was pretty rough. I was a little kid in a college world, living in the dorm, and I didn't fit in very well. I was pretty cocky about acing all my first semester classes. It was a great cover-up. Anyway, I signed up for an overload my second semester."

"This does not surprise me, Chief. You were burning the candle at both ends during nursery school." He was rewarded with a tiny smile, but Blair was far from relaxed.

"Okay, point taken. Thing was, the extra hours were more tuition, and my scholarship didn't cover it. No problem, I figured. I forged Naomi's signature on the paperwork and set up a payment plan. Got a job flipping burgers; problem solved."

"So now you're taking extra classes and working."

"And I'm sixteen, and I start to figure out how to blend in socially. I signed up for some campus stuff. Played, I don't know, basketball with my dorm floor. Joined the anthro club. Short version: I didn't manage my time well. I shifted my work schedule to nights so I could do the social stuff. I was closing at the burger place at midnight or later, taking the bus back to Rainier. I didn't study enough. I flunked two midterms and pulled C's in everything else."

"Everyone flunks a test at some point, Chief."

"Well, not this someone. I was in a panic. I was young, and didn't know you could go talk to someone in financial aid, or see a professor and make some arrangements. I just thought I'd lose my scholarship and that would be the end of college for me. I sweet-talked my way into some extra credit papers and projects, and started studying like a fiend. I didn't have very long before the next set of midterms came up. I needed more time."

Jim's stomach twisted. He could guess where this was going.

"I didn't buy anything, Jim. Please know that. By that time, I was sort of the dorm pet. I was pulling all-nighters and people were just trying to help out. It was sort of a game. How long can that Sandburg kid go without sleep? When coffee and NoDoz didn't do the trick, someone gave me some speed."

"Shit." Jim's heart sank.

"I know, I know. It was all supposed to be very temporary, but I was physically small, and young, and I didn't figure in that the effects would be a lot more intense for me than someone who was closer to adulthood. The time period wasn't very long, but I didn't sleep, didn't eat. I was so caught up with the projects and the papers and the job that I lost track. A couple of nights stretched into a week. A week stretched into two. I didn't notice that I was falling apart physically, and even if I had, I didn't think there was any other way."

"I went to turn in this extra anthro project to my TA, and she noticed my hands were shaking, and my pupils. Her older brother had a drug problem, so she knew what to look for. I was really a mess, right on the verge of falling to pieces. She practically locked me in her office and badgered the truth out of me."

"I owe Katherine a lot. She could have gotten me booted from the university right then and there, or just ignored what she saw. Instead, she called Dr. Stoddard, and they took me to New Life. Katherine knew people there because of her brother. God knows how they bluffed their way through the paperwork, 'cause Naomi was not in the picture. I didn't even know where she was. I was there for two days to detox, and Dr. Stoddard took me home. Jim, he hardly knew me, and he and his wife sat with me for the next week, took care of me like I was their own child. He made all kinds of arrangements for me - got extensions, test retakes, aftercare. When he found out about the burger place, he called my boss, chewed him out for his treatment of underage workers, and then paid my tuition. He and Louise got me back on my feet and I pulled my grades, hell, my life, out of the dumpster. He wouldn't send me back to the dorm. I lived with them until September. He arranged for summer classes and work-study in the Anthro department. I never touched drugs again. That's it." Blair took a long sip of his tea. He looked like a man waiting for the execution.

"Sandburg, I don't mean to make light of this, but it isn't like you were an axe murderer. You were a kid. Kids do dumb things. Why take off?"

"Shock. I'm a little sensitized to the spotlight. Those people, the camera." Blair sighed. "That's only part of it. I could see it being a trust issue, a re-run of Alex. Another deception to add to the list. All combined, I panicked."

"Then that's my fault, if you thought things between us were that fragile," Jim answered firmly.

"Really?" 

"Chief, I can understand the thing with the interview. We were both beat and neither of us were expecting it. They screwed up coming here without your permission. We can call them tomorrow and tell them to forget you ever existed."

"Okay." Blair nodded and went back to contemplating his tea.

"Sandburg, quit waiting for the other shoe to fall." Jim realized he was raising his voice. He was so bad at this. "Chief, I don't know everything about you. You certainly don't know everything about me. That doesn't constitute a breach of trust. I know I don't have a good track record on these things, but I'm working on it. Give me credit for a little improvement. I was way more worried about you than getting an explanation. Where did you go? I looked everywhere."

"I just walked." He drained the last of the tea. "It seems like an overreaction now, but I swear, it was like being back at that press conference. Like living the re-run. I'm sorry I worried you."

"You don't have to be sorry. I just need to be sure you're okay."

"I'm okay. Really. If you're okay, I'm okay." He looked up, the fatigue tinged with relief. "I'm sure we should talk this out better, but I'm beat. I'm going to take a shower and crash."

"Sure. You deserve it. We don't have to be at the station until one tomorrow. How about we have a late breakfast and go out for waffles?"

Blair mumbled something that resembled, "Sounds good," and shuffled off. Within half an hour the French doors were shut and he was soundly asleep. Jim wasn't far behind. He hit the shower, intending to stand there until every last drop of hot water was gone. He leaned his head against the smooth tiles and let the water beat down on his tired shoulders.

Blair Sandburg was such a complicated man. Layers upon layers. What a revelation this was. Jim had always known that Dr. Stoddard was a special influence in his friend's life, as a mentor and a colleague, but there was so much more to it. Blair hadn't spoken to Eli since the press conference. Jim was sure of that. Blair's academic renunciation would have been a deep wound to both men. The water gave out and Jim toweled off, deep in thought. He imagined Eli ticking down the crisis list of one stressed out, strung out, Blair Sandburg. Putting the young man's life back together; the treatment, the tuition, the classes, a place to stay and people to care about you. There was a lesson here if he was smart enough to learn it. Big issues don't get resolved all at once. You fix them piece by piece, over time, if necessary.

He did the usual - checked the windows and locked up before heading to bed. The clock showed ten to eight. Not that late. Before mounting the stairs, Jim snagged the phone book and flipped to the S section. He had a phone call to make, but he could do it from upstairs. As a gesture, it wasn't huge, but it could be the first of many pieces. Piece by piece. 

&&&&

Epilogue

Jim didn't call right away. Only the tiny light on his nightstand was still on, so the room was draped in shadow. He sat for a long time on the bed, leaning back against the pillows, his finger tracing the number he wanted. He wasn't quite sure how do begin when he finally got Eli Stoddard on the phone, and he really wanted to make this right for Blair. After trying numerous approaches with himself, he forced himself to dial, unsure of what he was really going to say.

His tension grew as ring after ring went unanswered at the Stoddard home. No way was he leaving something on an answering machine. He silently cursed his bad luck. The recording clicked in, and he was about to slam the phone down in disgust when a sweet, female voice broke in. 

"Hello. Please wait, I don't know how to turn it off." Jim winced as a series of beeps assaulted his sensitive hearing. "I'm sorry!" pleaded the voice. "Silly machine." The recording finally went silent. "Hello? Are you still there? I just turned it off. Now Eli will have to set the time again." She sighed. "Why do we put up with these contraptions anyway? Can I help you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jim answered with a chuckle. "Answering machines aren't my favorite either. I was trying to reach Dr. Stoddard. Is he available?"

"He will be in just a moment. He's outside looking for a comet or something. He said he'd be right in when we heard the phone ringing. Do you know Eli, young man?"

Jim couldn't help but smile. "You could say we know each other."

"Well, then you know if I don't go get him, he might forget altogether about the phone. If you'll wait, I'll go retrieve him." 

"That would be fine, thank you." He followed the sound of her footsteps across a hard floor, maybe tile of some kind of stone. So that must have been Louise Stoddard. She had such a warm, lively voice. He could imagine her mothering a teenaged Sandburg.

After a few minutes, he heard the firm footfalls of Eli Stoddard. The moment of truth had arrived. "Hello - This is Eli Stoddard." The voice was firm, the speech fast-paced, but friendly.

"Dr. Stoddard, I'd like to speak with you for a moment, if I may. My name is Jim Ellison." He hesitated. "I believe you know who I am."

There was a long silence. "Is this police business?" The voice had changed abruptly. The tone was icy, the words clipped.

"No, sir, it isn't. It's a good deal more personal than that."

"Detective, if this isn't official, we really have nothing to discuss." He sounded as if he were ready to hang up immediately. Jim panicked just a bit.

"Dr. Stoddard, I'd be grateful if you'd hear me out."

Another long silence. "All right. I'm listening."

Jim knew he didn't have long to pull this off. Eli sounded irritated at best. "Dr. Stoddard, some things came up today...well, uh...Blair mentioned some things that you did for him when he was younger, about how you'd helped him and how much it meant to him. I really want to set some things straight, for the record, at least between the two...I mean, the three of us." More silence. Jim could hear Eli's heart pounding away, even through the phone. This was going so badly. "You need to know - Blair's dissertation..."

"Was unforgivable," Stoddard interrupted. "This is over, Detective. There's nothing to say."

"Blair's dissertation isn't what is seems," Jim answered, speaking quickly, hoping Eli wouldn't just slam the phone down. "It's complicated, and Blair was trying to salvage a mess that wasn't of his own making." Jim was floundering, searching for the right words, frantically trying to keep the older man on the line, to give him a chance to explain.

"I can't believe he had you call me."

"He didn't. He doesn't know, he didn't ask me to. Blair never meant any of this to happen, and he certainly didn't mean to hurt you..."

"Didn't mean what?" shouted Stoddard. "Didn't mean to falsify his data? Didn't mean to maintain a sham for years? Or maybe didn't mean to get caught in the lie? Goodbye, Detective." 

"But he didn't lie. Stoddard! HE DIDN'T LIE!"

The buzz of the dial tone told Jim it was over. He dropped the phone and collapsed back onto the pillows, wishing he could scream his frustration to the heavens. He was too slow, too stupid, and it was too damn late. He stared into the darkness for hours before sleep finally overwhelmed him.

&&&&

"Hey, Jim, I'm holding you to that promise. Those strawberry waffles are calling my name, man. Get down here."

Jim forced himself down the stairs. Blair was standing at the bottom of the stairway with Jim's coat in hand, a broad grin on his face. He looked completely refreshed. The sleep must have done him good. Jim knew he was going to have to tell Blair what he'd done. The thought made him sick. Maybe he should wait, and try again with Eli, face to face. Scratch that. There was no point in delaying. Jim had screwed up, and he may as well admit it. Maybe during breakfast.

He tuned in belatedly as Sandburg pulled him along, already talking a mile a minute. Blair was looking backwards as he bounced out the door, focused on Jim. Abruptly, they crashed together, just across the threshold. 

It took a moment to disentangle. Blair had nearly mowed down an older gentleman. Jim watched in shock, as if it were happening in slow motion.

Tall, white-haired, carrying a package. 

Jim could hear Sandburg speaking, but it sounded far, far away. "Eli? Why are you...? Is it Louise? Is she all right?"

A single tear slipped down Stoddard's face. "Blair...I...oh, my boy!" The package thumped to the floor as the older man wrapped the stunned Sandburg in a hug.

Jim picked the package up, and backed away. He could hear little bits of conversation...you didn't lie...don't understand...sorry, so sorry. This wasn't his moment, and he shouldn't be here.

Jim was caught before he could make his escape. Stoddard's firm hand pulled him back. Blair's cheeks were as damp as Stoddard's, but he was smiling. Eli looked radiant. He took the package from Jim.

"This is for you, Blair." Eli laid it in Blair's hands. "It's a collection of Burton's papers that came available." His voice cracked, and he swallowed. "This was for your graduation," he added softly. "I'm so glad that they'll be useful in your continued research, no matter what form it takes." He looked slyly at Jim. "Scientific truth always wins out in the end, you know, no matter how repressed."

"Eli," Blair answered in a faltering voice, "I don't know what to say."

"Say nothing now." Stoddard turned to Jim, looking rather stern and formal. "My wife Louise is a very determined woman, Detective. She had her own take on our conversation last evening. She also doesn't put up with a lot of crap from an old man like me, or young bucks like the two of you, for that matter. My marching orders were to be here this morning. Yours are to join us for dinner this evening. We'll have plenty of time to sort this all out." He held out his hand to Jim.

"We'd be honored, Sir." Jim answered, shaking the older man's hand. "Will seven be acceptable?"

"I think if you're not there by seven, you'll wish the hounds of hell were after you rather than deal with my Louise." Stoddard grinned. "I believe peach pie is on the menu, along with numerous apologies and explanations. We'll each take a number." With a nod to Blair, he disappeared down the stairs.

Blair stared at his partner, clutching the package to his chest as if it was the greatest treasure in the world. He was as close to speechless as Jim had ever seen him. Jim removed the package from his hands, gently set it on the floor just inside and locked the door. "Chief, before you start yelling at me, you should remember that I'm buying the waffles." He knew he was forgiven when Blair started to laugh. He took Blair by the shoulders and steered him toward the stairs. "Don't say a word. Until your mouth is full of whipped cream and fruit, I'm pleading the fifth."


End file.
